


eat your heart out (seal it with a kiss)

by jjokkiri



Series: monsta x bingo (winter 2017) [28]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Blackmail, M/M, Monsta X Bingo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-10-14 14:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/pseuds/jjokkiri
Summary: Kihyun doesn’t want to work with the “best in the industry”, because that means it isn’t him. And so, you knock down the walls that hold you back.





	1. prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the _Mistaken Identity_ square of [Monsta X Bingo](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/MXbingo).
> 
> Title from Krewella's _Killin' It_.

 

“No, I don’t care if everyone thinks he’s the best person in the entire world,” Yoo Kihyun hissed, storming down the hallway with the heels of his shoes clicking loudly from his stomping pattern. His manager followed behind him, desperately trying to soothe his temper to no avail. “This merger was the stupidest idea in the world, and I _refuse_ to work with him!”

“You can’t argue against the orders of the CEO, Kihyun,” his manager, Lim Changkyun, argued. “It wasn’t our choice if CEO Son wanted to go through with the merger or not. It’s completely beneficial to us, if we work with the new arrangements, and if you would stop walking away and listen to me!”

“I can do whatever I want,” Kihyun grumbled, “If I don’t want to work with that stuck-up snob, then I don’t have to! Just because we’re officially co-workers, doesn’t mean that I have to be nice to him, either. He’s done nothing to deserve my kindness.”

“You don’t even know him, personally, Kihyun,” Changkyun told him, “How can you call him a snob when you know nothing about him? And don’t you dare tell me it’s because he’s an A-list model, because that’s what you are too!”

“Well, you know me well enough to know what I’m going to say,” the model barked back, not sparing his manager a single glance. “If you’re going to say some crap about how we’re the same, then _fine._ I’m a snob, too. But, I’m _not working with him._ ”

“The fans would love it, come on!”

“You already tried to tell me that. And what did I say? Oh right: _no._ ”

They’d been friends for longer than Changkyun had been Kihyun’s manager. In fact, they’d been friends before Kihyun even dreamed of being a model. And that sudden spark of passion in his friend’s eyes was the reason he’d accepted Kihyun’s request when he came to Changkyun’s place with a hopeful smile and held out the modeling contract (“I don’t want to work with anyone, if it’s not you, Kyun,” Kihyun had told him, confidently).

That friendship taught him a thousand different things about the older man; from useless things like what type of dryer sheets were his absolute favourite to important things like his allergies and the order his medication needed to be taken in. Kihyun’s temper rarely flared, but when it was something out of their control, Changkyun couldn’t believe that Kihyun was forcing him to take the backlash of everything the older man was feeling.

It wasn’t fair. But, they both worked for the fashion industry and this high up on that metaphorical food chain, there wasn’t anything that could be considered fair. It was a fish eat fish world, as most people continuously told Changkyun, when they saw him walking with Kihyun and the model was complaining about something completely ridiculous.

With a frustrated huff, Changkyun threw up his hands and stopped following Kihyun down the seemingly endless hall of their company. “I don’t remember signing up to _babysit_ someone, when you came to my house and asked me to be your manager, when you finally made it big!”

Kihyun’s footsteps fell to a stop and he turned around, staring at Changkyun as if he’d been burned.

“Am I wrong? Aren’t you acting like a child about working with Shin Hoseok?” Changkyun pressed, “He was practically nursed to fame by Chae Hyungwon. And since Hyungwon retired, he’s the best in the industry! Do you know what kind of fame that could do for you, Kihyun?”

“You don’t _get it,_ Changkyun! I don’t want to work with _the best_ ,” Kihyun snapped, “Because that means it isn’t me!”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned on his heel and ignored the desperate look on his manager’s face. With an aggravated sigh, Kihyun paused before he stormed off.

“And if you want me to change my mind, then use your lackeys, Changkyun,” Kihyun taunted, “You’ve always told me you’d do anything to change my mind, if you knew what was best for me. So, you’ve got a ton of cash, right? Rich family things?”

“What are you getting at, Kihyun?”

“Find me some dirt on him and let me bend Shin Hoseok to my every will and demand, and I’ll work with him.”

Changkyun’s jaw dropped and he stared at the model in horror. Kihyun turned his head and tilted it, taunting Changkyun with the way his dark fringe fell into his eyes. And it looked as if Kihyun were challenging Changkyun’s loyalty to him against him. The younger man’s heart broke at the idea, but he managed to find his words.

“Kihyun, that’s _blackmail_ ,” Changkyun told him, disbelieving.

A scoff. Kihyun hardly missed a beat before he responded, “It’s a _fish eat fish world out there,_ Changkyun. And it’s also what will get me to listen to you and work with this _best in the industry_.”

And then there was the clicking of Kihyun’s heels before Changkyun realized that the other man was walking away. Swallowing hard, Changkyun closed the folder of containing the contract he’d been instructed to make Kihyun sign.

 _But, he’d do what Kihyun wanted. He’d find_ something.


	2. 1st look.

A brilliant smile and bright blond hair, captivating eyes and a stunning body—the man was a walking masterpiece, as all models should be, but somehow, it only infuriated Kihyun to see the way Shin Hoseok’s smile easily spread across his face whenever the camera demanded it. The expressions on his face rivaled that of an actor’s and it was somehow mesmerizing. Kihyun’s eyes were unable to take themselves away from the older model’s face from the moment he stepped into the room, and it annoyed him.

Changkyun stood by his side with a folder in his hands and the manager quickly looked for the seats set up for the managers to be sitting. Chae Hyungwon and Hoseok’s manager, Yoon Bora, were seated in the corner of the room on a bench, focused on a document in Bora’s hands. Changkyun grabbed the model’s hand and pulled him over to where the two retired models were sitting. Chae Hyungwon was once that model known as the _best in the industry_ and Yoon Bora was his female counterpart, but they’d retired. Bora took to nurturing someone else to take their places—it was why Kihyun was far from fond of Shin Hoseok: everything he was raised to be was a threat.

And Kihyun wanted to be the best in the industry. If Hoseok followed in both Bora and Hyungwon’s footsteps, then Kihyun failed.

“Good afternoon,” Changkyun greeted, nodding to Hyungwon and then to Bora. The older man smiled at him and nodded. “Have you been here long?”

“Half an hour,” Hyungwon replied, “Hoseok was called for some solo shots, first.”

“Reporting is my job,” Bora scolded, smacking the younger man with the file in her hands. Hyungwon winced and cowered away from her, pouting. The woman pushed her long locks behind her ear and turned to smile at Changkyun, and for a moment, they both freeze. It isn’t a surprise that this woman was a former model—she’s beautiful. “You’re Yoo Kihyun’s manager, right?”

Changkyun managed a smile, “That’s why I’m with him. I’m a little lacking to be a model myself.”

Bora laughed at the joke, shaking her head, but Hyungwon’s eyes immediately wandered.

He glanced to Kihyun and under the gaze, Kihyun suddenly felt smaller. His ego shrunk underneath the gaze of someone who was internationally recognized as a talent. Changkyun seemed to notice, and he cleared his throat, nudging the model. Straightening himself up, Kihyun managed a stoic nod. He might have lacked a fondness for Shin Hoseok, but the other model’s mentor was someone he couldn’t look down on.

“Yoo Kihyun,” he introduced himself, clearing his throat and echoing Changkyun’s actions. “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. I hadn’t thought I’d meet the both of you at the same time, ever. This is an honour.”

Bora smiled, “A cute manager with a well-mannered, cute model. I like this concept.”

Changkyun flushed at the remark and Hyungwon rolled his eyes with a chuckle, “The model isn’t that cute,” he mumbled under his breath.

Neither Changkyun nor Kihyun caught the remark, but in the next second, Bora was whipping the identification card hanging around her neck at the former model. “Chae Hyungwon! That’s rude!”

Their attention was pulled away from one another when a clap sounded through the room. They turned their heads to where Hoseok was getting his photos taken, and the model bowed to the photographer with a smile on his lips. It’s charming and a part of Kihyun hated that he had to acknowledge the older man’s charm. Changkyun would scold him if he voiced the unpleasant mentality towards his future co-worker. Future being within the next ten minutes.

Hoseok was sweating from the bright lights streaming down on him and Bora was quick to her feet, tossing the young man a towel to dab away the sweat as he approached them. Kihyun hated every fiber of his being, even as he innocently approached them.

And it seemed that Hoseok couldn’t read the atmosphere, because his smiled failed to falter as he made eye contact with Kihyun.

“You must be Yoo Kihyun,” Hoseok greeted, dazzling smile flashed in Kihyun’s direction. Every professional instinct in his body screamed at him to behave and act civil to someone who was trying to be nice to him. After all, the CEO himself had said that he pictured the two of them as a practical dream together—they were bound to rack in millions if they cooperated.

“I am,” Kihyun confirmed and from the corner of his eye, he could see Changkyun shrinking into himself as if afraid of being associated with the model’s haughty behaviour.

Hoseok gave him a quick once over, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Kihyun crossed his arms over his chest and flashed a sickeningly sweet smile at the other model, obviously fake, “I’m not.”

 

 

 

“Kihyun,” Changkyun called, pressing his lips together into a thin line and holding his breath. The model glanced at his manager, placing his crackers down onto the wrapper on the table and raised in eyebrow. “You promised that you’d work with Hoseok!”

“I made no promises about being civil, did I?” Kihyun responded, rolling his eyes and moved to pick the crackers back up.

“Isn’t it common sense to at least try to be nice to someone on the first meeting?”

Kihyun shrugged, “I’m not going to pretend to be nice. He’s going to learn sooner or later, what I’m like.”

Changkyun made a disapproving face and sighed. “You weren’t like this, before.”

Cracker between his lips, Kihyun raised an eyebrow. They were finally alone in the safety of Kihyun’s apartment—Changkyun had come over as he’d promised, after the photo shoot. In front of the camera, Kihyun was an angel—charming smiles towards the lenses and easily obeying the commands of the photographer; stunning and absolutely breathtaking. Typical of a model.

Of course, Changkyun had complaints. Changkyun always seemed to have complaints about how Kihyun behaved when the camera wasn’t on him. It wasn’t a secret that the modeling industry was far from a friendly place, but when it seemed as if Hoseok was struggling with the merger as much as Kihyun was, then Changkyun thought it was simply unfair for Kihyun to be so _mean_. Even when they were children, Kihyun wasn’t the nicest of people, but he knew as a fact that there was a _softer_ person, hidden somewhere underneath Kihyun’s thick layers of defense.

It’d been years since he’d seen anything close to that softer side of Kihyun, though. Ever since the older man ran to him and asked him to be his manager, because there wasn’t anyone else that he wanted to work with. Changkyun hadn’t seen the hopeful, dreamer of the person he dared to call his best friend, since they stepped into the modelling industry, side by side. He couldn’t say that he was wanting for Kihyun to return to the person he used to be—there was a confident part of Changkyun which was _sure_ that Kihyun would get trampled in this industry, if he did.

He just wished that Kihyun was more approachable—it would help photographers offer him jobs, in Changkyun’s honest opinion. If he were just a little nicer, then maybe someone else would ask the CEO to coax him into working with more companies—maybe then, his face would be plastered everywhere on the streets, like he wanted. CEO Son was a kind person and he worked in favour of his employees, when they showed they wanted it; watching Chae Hyungwon skyrocket to fame should have solidified that idea.

But, Changkyun never dared to voice it aloud to Kihyun. Not yet.

He wasn’t ready to possibly ruin their friendship, even though he knew that he was all that Kihyun had.

“I was always like this,” Kihyun replied, “Just not to you.”

And Changkyun couldn’t help but think that he missed when Kihyun was bright eyed, passionate and a dreamer.

“Anyway,” Changkyun sighed, raising the folder in his hands. Kihyun’s eyes brightened at the sight of the folder.

From the gold trim on the edges of the black folder, Kihyun could tell that it was something important—it had Changkyun’s family seal on it, and it made it all so much more exciting to see. Changkyun rarely associated himself with his heritage, now that he was older and working with Kihyun, but whenever he showed the seal—that symbol of wealth—then it proved itself to be thrilling. In their years of friendship, Kihyun had only seen Changkyun open three similar looking folders. Each and every time, they’d been top secret information that Changkyun _dared_ to show Kihyun. He hadn’t seen anything like it for over six years, now.

The twenty-three year old placed his crackers back down on the wrapper and raised an eyebrow, trying to conceal his excitement. Changkyun could see right through him.

“What’s in there?”

Changkyun immediately frowned at him, “I don’t know whether to be proud that I knew I’d get your attention like this, or disappointed that this is all you care about.”

Kihyun clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, displeased at the words which left Changkyun’s lips.

“It’s not,” he replied, “I don’t even know what’s in there.”

With a weary stare, Changkyun slid the envelope across the counter to him. The way the younger man’s fingers curled as soon as the envelope left his reach almost screamed that Changkyun regretted the second he let it slip away from his grasp; that Changkyun regretted letting everything get to this point. But, he made Kihyun a promise and his loyalty rose above everything else—he _trusted_ Kihyun, no matter how ridiculous his demands were, because Yoo Kihyun was a man of his word. He always had been, and that was the one thing Changkyun was so grateful to have not seen changed.

“If anyone asks,” Changkyun said, eyes still trained on the envelope before they dared to raise to Kihyun’s face, “I know nothing and I wasn’t a part of this. Remove that from the folder as soon as you can, and return it to me. Don’t open it in public.”

Kihyun studied the black envelope and pursed his lips, “What is it?”

“Whatever you asked for.”

 

 

 

The changing room in the building was smaller than it was in the building Kihyun was used to shooting in, before the merger. After the companies merging, the entire company had adapted to Starship Entertainment’s name and moved to the bigger building. Kihyun, once signed to X Media, found himself as a registered model under Starship. To Kihyun, it hadn’t been that much of a problem when they’d moved buildings—Starship’s building was much more spacious, even though the changing rooms were smaller.

But, when his biggest competitor became his co-worker, it somehow projected everything into a different perspective. Something along the lines of: _I already lost all of that, why do I have to lose to you?_ They were supposed to be a team, but Kihyun could hardly look at Shin Hoseok with that kind of respect.

Still, he’d promised Changkyun that he would behave and work with the other man, so long as Changkyun fulfilled the promise he made to him. Kihyun never went back on his word and that was something he prided himself in—somewhere amidst the towering vanity he called pride.

The door clicked open and Kihyun looked up from where he was playing on his phone, and he made eye contact with his makeup artist. When the merger went through, there had been a shuffle in the pairs of makeup artists, and Kihyun had been paired up with someone who also used to work for X Media. _Thankfully_. Lee Minhyuk was bright and ecstatic about everything and it was something nice to see, when he was around Changkyun’s negativity about his ego all the time.

“Good morning!” Minhyuk greeted, smile bright. Kihyun never seemed to get quite used to how cheerful the makeup artist cum stylist was, especially because he worked in such a toxic environment. Kihyun didn’t help, either.

“Morning,” Kihyun mumbled, shifting in his seat and placing his phone to the side, getting up.

“Oh, no,” Minhyuk said, “You can just stay where you are. It isn’t time for me to touch up your makeup for the next shoot, yet. I’m just grabbing something for Jooheon.”

 _Jooheon._ Lee Jooheon—the other makeup artist and stylist who always seemed to tag around with Shin Hoseok. If Minhyuk was grabbing something for Jooheon, then that meant that Shin Hoseok was in the studio. Kihyun’s brows knit together as his lips pursed into a frown and Minhyuk let out an exaggerated sigh, looking at him.

“Don’t make weird faces!” he said, “You’re going to crease your makeup! No setting sprays could save your makeup from that kind of strenuous facial activity!”

Straightening his expression again, Kihyun rolled his eyes and Minhyuk flashed a small smile. And he couldn’t help but wonder if Minhyuk was oblivious to the reason he’d made the face, in the first place. Changkyun and Minhyuk had immediately clicked when the makeup artist had introduced himself to them—Kihyun trusted Changkyun more than to assume that his manager had spilled Kihyun’s disdain to Minhyuk.

(But, he’d realize that it was rather obvious, sometime later.)

Minhyuk was leaving the room when he snapped back into reality. He’d heard Hoseok’s name, but he hadn’t been listening at all. It almost seemed as if Minhyuk could read him easily, because the older man peeked his head back into the room and offered another smile.

“You’re sharing your changing room with Hoseok,” he said. “Most likely for the next few months, because Jooheon and I work together, whenever Dayoung is our photographer.”

Kihyun’s expression dropped again.

_You’ve got to be fucking kidding me._

 

 

 

Playing nice hardly lasted a week.

Kihyun couldn’t do it. He was someone who swore by his word, but he didn’t quite promise Changkyun that he would be nice. Kihyun hadn’t been expecting such quick turnaround when he demanded that his manager use his wealth for all the wrong reasons. He didn’t actually think that there would be anything that could drag the other model down to his knees—didn’t even know if the knowledge he possessed was enough for Hoseok to bend to his every will and demand, like he wanted.

But, playing nice was hardly a part of the deal. Changkyun handed him the envelope knowing exactly what he intended to do with it.

Truthfully, Shin Hoseok probably didn’t deserve it, but if Kihyun could press him down and get ahead, then surely he’d do anything to get there. The modelling industry was far from friendly—he had to continue reminding himself of that, because no one played fair. It was play dirty or be forgotten. Shin Hoseok had his advantage in being friends with Chae Hyungwon. That was the upper hand that Kihyun insisted he needed to level off.

They needed an even playing field.

But, playing even competition wasn’t what Kihyun would achieve if he played his cards right.

They were alone in the changing room—they’d gotten their makeup done and were taking a short break together. On camera, exactly as suspected, they shared an impressive chemistry and Kihyun could see the pride in Dayoung’s face when she snapped the photos of the two models leaning against one another—as if she’d been the one who proposed that the two of them work together in the first place. But, had she been, then she was the catalyst to a storm.

If Shin Hoseok was a good actor, or if Changkyun’s research failed him, then maybe Kihyun’s hand wouldn’t reign any triumph, but he hoped that there wasn’t a mistake in this. He needed the upper hand against this man, because despite pride, he was sure that he couldn’t beat Shin Hoseok if he played fair.

“How much money did it cost to bury your history?” Kihyun asked, suddenly. Hoseok was sitting in front of the mirror, fixing his hair with absent hands and those hands immediately froze. Kihyun could see the horror in his eyes and it was all he needed to confirm that Changkyun’s research bore fruit.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok breathed, looking terrified for a brief second.

“I asked a simple question,” Kihyun replied, his tone a drawl as he tilted his head back on the arm of the sofa. Hoseok turned around in the swivelling chair and his lips pressed into a frown.

Kihyun had to admit that Hoseok was so much prettier when he was smiling.

And then Kihyun was on his feet, lips pulled into a satisfied grin, “Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about, _Wonho._ ”

At the sound of the name, Hoseok immediately froze. Visibly, his body tensed up and his eyes widened as if he hadn’t been expecting to hear the name ever again, in his life.

“… how much do you know?”

“Quite a bit,” Kihyun replied, simply. “I know about the scandal in 2014, and of course the title of every—”

“Too much,” Hoseok cut him off. He sounded panicked, but then it faded and it hardly sounded angry. “How did you find all of this?”

 _It was calmer._ This wasn’t how Kihyun had pictured everything playing out.

“I have my sources,” Kihyun replied, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. “What would you do if all of this got back out to the public?”

Realization flashed in the blond’s eyes.

“This is _blackmail_ ,” Hoseok breathed, “Do you know what this could do to you?”

Kihyun’s silence was the answer Hoseok needed—the younger model knew everything that this could entail, but he was willing to put his everything into a game of power.

In the next second, Hoseok was standing in front of him and Kihyun had to swallow around the sudden nervous lump in his throat. He shouldn’t be feeling like this—he was the one with the power to ruin everything, here. Hoseok leaned closer to him.

“You fascinate me,” Hoseok said, simply. His eyes looked as if they were studying Kihyun—seeing deeper into him than what was on the surface. It frightened him. “It’s amazing how far someone is willing to go to ruin someone else, even if it could mean self-destruction. You fascinate me, Yoo Kihyun.”

Stepping away from Hoseok with his eyes wide, Kihyun raised a hand as if he’d been struck, “I fascinate you?”

Hoseok simply smiled, “Yes. You amaze me, to say something more,” he said, “How much power you have at your disposal is amazing.”

For someone who was being threatened, Hoseok was much too calm and it only lit a flame of irritation to burn somewhere in the back of Kihyun’s mind. And that flame would later become curiosity, but in the moment, Kihyun’s annoyance voiced itself in a tone of confusion.

“I have something that could ruin you completely,” Kihyun pressed, brows furrowed. “I could ruin your entire career with a single click of a button, and you think I’m fascinating?”

The other model stayed silent for a moment, studying Kihyun’s expression and he hummed softly. It was a decisive sound, as if he had Kihyun all figured out, and he hated it so much. The younger man pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth in irritation and Hoseok reached out, grabbing him and pulling him closer, turning to face the wall. Suddenly, their lips were barely an inch apart and Kihyun was standing with his back pressed to the wall—Hoseok hovering over him.

“You could,” Hoseok whispered, “But, I won’t let you.”

The tension between them seemed to burn and Kihyun tilted his head back against the cold, smooth surface of the wall. Hoseok’s hand quietly reached for the doorknob and then there was the telltale clicking of the door locking. And the older model’s eyes were sharp when they met with Kihyun’s eyes again.

“Tell me what you want from me, Yoo Kihyun.”


	3. 2nd look.

The first month of working together with a model under a strict contract was difficult for Kihyun, and it was obvious in his face. The discomfort of knowing that he was legally obligated to only work with one company (and by extension, the only representative model of the company). Since the merger of his agency, Kihyun found himself losing all of his other jobs, because the paperwork for his contracts were missing in the move. It was times like this which made him wish that he was an independent agent and he hadn’t auditioned for X Media in the first place. Had he entered Hyungwon and Hoseok’s company from the beginning, then maybe there wouldn’t have been such a ridiculous rivalry between them.

And maybe, he wouldn’t need to avoid Changkyun’s eyes when the younger man looked at him, studying him like he knew everything that was happening in Kihyun’s mind. Maybe, there wouldn’t be that need to put pressure on their friendship because of a rivalry and a desperate need to be _better_ than the people around him. If he had decided to audition for a different company from the start, then perhaps, they wouldn’t be in the middle of something like this. _This_ being the difficult feeling of knowing that he was _blackmailing_ someone else in order to have power over them.

He and Hoseok were represented by the same agency, now, but Kihyun started with intentions to beat down the older model from the second he learned that they’d be working together. He couldn’t turn back on his plans and tell him that he was sorry, after everything he’d done for the past month. It was something difficult to wrap his head around—the heartless persona that Kihyun carried around took it in stride, but something in the depths of his heart felt that it was _wrong_ (and every rational nerve in his body knew that his heart was right).

In the most rational form of thought, Kihyun’s priorities should lie in making profits for the agency and developing a name for them. They weren’t supposed to be rivals; they were supposed to work together. The nature of a merger meant that they needed to understand that their companies aligned in values and they should be working in harmony with one another. Beating someone else down in your own agency in order to strive as the best simply didn’t align. If Kihyun were to follow through with his threat, then Hoseok would fall and tarnish the reputation of the agency—Kihyun alone wouldn’t be able to fix it.

But, of course, it didn’t mean that he felt bad for what he was doing at all.

The fact that Hoseok’s downfall would ultimately threaten the stellar reputation of an entire agency ( _their agency_ ) simply meant that Kihyun would need to know his boundaries. It meant that Hoseok needed to behave in the fear that Kihyun wouldn’t have a rational mind. Truthfully, the blackmail material was something alike to a bluff—he held the legitimate information and it could destroy everything that the agency and Hoseok (and even Kihyun) had built up for themselves, but he wouldn’t use it. To know that a famous modelling agency opened its doors and willingly covered up the fact that one of their most popular models used to work in a more _risqué_ industry? The public wouldn’t take well to knowing that such a prestigious company would do such a thing. It’d trash Chae Hyungwon’s reputation, as well— _pulling a model out of a porn star?_ Opening the information to the public ear would be something alike to committing suicide with a nuclear bomb—a reckless disaster to oneself, and every single thing around them.

“Mr. Yoo, you look distracted.”

The rational thoughts immediately vanished from Kihyun’s mind at the very second that Dayoung’s sharp voice cut through the silence of camera shutters and the tell-tale burn of bright lights on their skin. He snapped out of his thoughts and he turned to look at the camera, the reflectors biting at his eyes. Dayoung’s hands were no longer clutched onto the camera in her hands, but rather rested on her hips.

“Are you not in the mood to work?” she demanded, clearly annoyed with him. Kihyun couldn’t help but let his mind flicker: _how long had he spaced out for?_ “How do you expect me to get my perfect shots when you can’t even _hear me,_ when I’m giving you instructions?”

Kihyun’s surroundings came back to him with the flare of the lights flickered and he realized where he was. He was standing in the middle of a set, and there were the eyes of make-up artists all on him and Hoseok, who was standing with his back against him. The blond moved from the pose he was instructed to strike, and turned to look at Kihyun. All eyes were on him, and Kihyun swallowed.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, bowing his head slightly. “I simply spaced out for a moment. I’ll do better.”

Dayoung rolled her eyes, not picking her camera back up. The photographer turned her head away from them and scoffed. Hoseok straightened out his posture and ran his fingers through his hair, the expression on his face clearly looking like he was unsure of if he should be stepping in between them. There was a tension in the air between Kihyun and the photographer, and from the corner of his eye, Kihyun could see both Bora and Changkyun turning away from them—it didn’t need to be said for him to know that they didn’t want to be involved.

(It wasn’t their place.)

“You models always say that,” she said. “But, then you go back to posing for me with your eyes looking all _dead_ because you hate being scolded, because you all _know how to do your job_. We’ll be here all night, if I go by your word of ‘ _I’ll do better’_ ; you all say that.”

Kihyun clenched his fists—he hated photographers who made assumptions on others based on everything they knew about _other_ people. Dayoung had seemed off when she stepped into the studio, but he hadn’t foreseen being snapped at by the photographer. He made simple mistakes, but it seemed the usually kind photographer didn’t have the time for anything going wrong, today. Gritting his teeth, Kihyun made to speak, again.

“I’m sorry, but—”

Dayoung cut him off before he could defend himself, turning to her staff with a click of her tongue and an annoyed look in her eyes. She obviously wasn’t willing to listen to any sort of excuse. “I want to reschedule this shoot. Let’s find a day where Mr. Yoo is more _focused_.”

And Kihyun found himself standing there, unable to say anything else, as the staff members gathered their things and packed up for the day.

 

 

 

“She makes it sound like I fuckin’ _owe_ her something,” Kihyun hissed, pushing Hoseok against the edge of the sink and letting the porcelain surface dig into the small of his back. Hoseok visibly winced at the sudden pain, but he didn’t back away from Kihyun.

Somehow, this had become something close to _normal_ for them. They couldn’t seem to pinpoint where it started, but somewhere during the month they’d been working together, just after Kihyun had brought his threatening ammunition to the attention of the blond, it happened. Whenever Kihyun’s emotions flared with annoyance, they’d somehow find themselves together, whether it be in waiting room or in a washroom with the doors locked behind them. The stress burned itself in roaring flames in the way Kihyun dragged Hoseok down by the collar of his shirt and roughly pressed their lips together, and the biting of his lips—rubbing them bright red and raw, until he was finally satisfied with the damage he’d done.

The first time it happened, Hoseok had arched an amused eyebrow at him as Kihyun locked the door shut behind them and grabbed onto the older model. (“I didn’t think you liked me like this,” Hoseok had murmured with his lips curling into an amused grin and a laugh leaving his lips, soft and low from somewhere at the back of his throat. Kihyun had been quick to retaliate with a snide _“I don’t like you at all”_ , effectively shutting Hoseok up.)

Hoseok chuckled, tilting his head back and letting Kihyun bite into the skin of his neck, “You owe her a damn good shot.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled. Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, a quiet groan escaping his lips when Kihyun’s fingernails dug into his shoulders.

Leaning back and admiring his own work, Kihyun’s eyes ran down the column of Hoseok’s neck, where he’d left a trail of dark marks—teeth having bitten the skin red. Hoseok seemed to have an impressive tolerance for pain, because despite his wincing at the bites, never once did he say it was _too much_.

It took the younger model by surprise when Hoseok pulled him towards him, arm hooking around his waist and pulling him flush against his body. Suddenly, they were kissing. It was rough and a mess of lips rubbing at one another and teeth threatening to clash. Far from gentle, Hoseok pushed him back against the edge of the sink and Kihyun grimaced in the second that their lips parted.

Nimble fingers ran down Hoseok’s body and Kihyun’s found the button of Hoseok’s jeans, haphazardly trying to pull at the material and undo it. Their lips met again for a brief moment, before Hoseok pulled away from him with a low laugh leaving his lips. The blond’s hands moved to unbutton his own pants, eyes raising to meet with Kihyun’s for a moment.

“I never thought that getting down and obeying your every command to protect my identity would turn into this.”

They’d never gone this far, before. It always stopped with roughly jerking Kihyun off, and they’d both leave the restroom like nothing happened in the first place. But, something in the burning annoyance that haunted Kihyun’s mind pulled him into wanting _more_ than what they usually did with one another. So, with his teeth grit in annoyance, Kihyun carelessly ran his fingers down the front of his own shirt, letting the buttons pop open. Then, he was tugging his belt off, discarding it on the floor without glancing anywhere away from Hoseok’s eyes.

“Shut up,” he repeated, a light flashing in his eyes. “Shut up and show me what you’re made of, _Wonho_.”

 

 

 

“I know that there are hardly any rules in the modelling industry about what’s fair or not. Just like how you can almost do anything to ruin another celebrity in stardom, if you really wanted to,” Changkyun said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall of Kihyun’s dressing room. The model sat on the chair in front of the mirror, an eyebrow arched to his own reflection, diligently applying concealer onto the bite marks on his neck, which Changkyun kindly hadn’t asked about. “But, don’t you think that resorting to blackmail is a little too much?”

It had been just over a month since Hoseok and Kihyun started working together on relatively civil terms (or as civil as Kihyun would ever allow himself to work with the enemy). And it had been a month and a half since Changkyun handed over the documents that could ruin an entire career—if not all of their careers—to Kihyun. He’d given them to Kihyun as his loyal friend and the heir to a fortune, but the more rational side of Im Changkyun was eating him alive with the guilt for giving something so _powerful_ to someone so reckless.

After all, Kihyun had changed so much from the person he once befriended, and it was almost tragic to look at what he’d become, considering everything that Changkyun knew Kihyun valued with everything he had. To Im Changkyun, both as Kihyun’s manager and the one person who swore to stand by him throughout everything when Kihyun asked him to, there were too many differences when he turned sad eyes to look at the man he called his best friend. Yoo Kihyun was never the cruel, seemingly heartless man that he was now, and Changkyun could only hope that there were remnants of his _best friend_ somewhere in the shell of the person which the modelling industry had turned Yoo Kihyun into.

“We do what we have to in order to climb to the top,” Kihyun replied, capping the bottle of concealer between his fingers and pursing his lips into a pout at the mirror to check his appearance. He reached across the makeup table to pick up a small bottle; Changkyun paid little attention to his best friend’s movements. “We’re not here to make friends, Changkyun. I think you know that almost as well as I do.”

A soft sigh left Changkyun’s lips as he leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his arms over his chest, scanning Kihyun’s seated figure in consideration. Then, pressing the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Changkyun ran his fingers through his own dark locks.

“If there’s anything that I learned from you at all over these past few years of being your manager, it’s that,” Changkyun told him. Kihyun pressed his lips into a satisfied smile at Changkyun’s response.

“Yes, and it’s not too hard to _not make friends_ , if everyone’s afraid of stepping on your toes, correct?” Kihyun arched an eyebrow at Changkyun through the mirror, and again, there was that dreadful feeling in Changkyun’s gut that wished that Kihyun was the same person he’d volunteered to help out, when Kihyun had first signed the contract with X Media.

For a moment, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say in response to Kihyun’s words. Changkyun’s mind ran through the possibilities of what he could potentially say, and he hesitated. He could easily say anything and everything that came to his mind, because Kihyun was his best friend and he was supposed to be the one person who would be understanding until the very end—just like what Changkyun would do his absolute best to do for Kihyun.

Again, he sighed, looking down at where his arms folded together over his chest. Kihyun looked up at him through his reflection at the sound, the slight concern flashing in his eyes for the briefest of moments. Changkyun missed it—the look in Kihyun’s eyes—when he looked from his hands and back up into the mirror to let his eyes meet with Kihyun’s.

“Let me be honest with you, hyung,” Changkyun said, after a moment of silence and being deep in thought with his words. “Will you listen to me for a little while, without talking?”

Kihyun sighed, resting his chin in his palm and leaning his elbow against the counter, looking at Changkyun through his reflection. There was a moment of silence, as if Kihyun didn’t know what to expect from the request, but there was a determined look in Changkyun’s eyes, and Kihyun gave into that. “Go ahead.”

Changkyun took a breath, clearing his mind before letting himself speak of everything that had been haunting his mind.

“Truthfully... I think that you’re gorgeous and you know it. You know it so well. You know how to work the camera better than the photographers know how to direct you, and I think it’s amazing,” Changkyun said, eyes lingering on his best friend and gaging the older man’s reaction to his words. Kihyun’s expression didn’t change. “And I think you can make it to the top without all the ploys that you’re trying to play on people who don’t really deserve it. You... you also shouldn’t think that you need to use that tough act around me, hyung. I know you—you’re not like this, no matter how much you try to tell me that you’ve always been like this; I know you haven’t. I think that I should know better than anyone else that you _really haven’t_.

“You really think that I don’t know what the industry is like, because all that I am is just... your manager—all I really do is follow you around and make sure your schedules are all in check. And you think that I don’t know the pressure that all the models have, but hyung... I see it in your eyes. That pressure and that understanding, when you see a junior struggling—you want to try and help them, but you have a reputation that you want to keep up.”

Kihyun grit his teeth, looking like he wanted to cut into Changkyun’s little speech, but he’d promised that he wouldn’t interrupt. If there was anyone that he wouldn’t break a promise to, it would be his best friend.

The model kept his mouth shut. Changkyun raised his brows at his best friend, pausing for a brief second. Kihyun averted his eyes from Changkyun’s in the mirror, so the younger man continued.

“And, I’m not saying that everything you’re doing is _wrong_ , I just want you to think about the outcome of all of this—sure, everything is going to go your way while you have a hold on everything, but what about if the public finds out? I’m the only person who would be there to back you up, and I’m afraid that might not be enough, really.

“I’m not saying that I think you need to make friends, you know. You don’t really want to make any friends with the models, and I think I kind of get it—it’s harder to compete with people heartlessly, when you’re friends with them and genuinely care about what they think, isn’t it?” Kihyun didn’t answer him—he kept his gaze away from Changkyun’s. “I just want you to think about something for a bit,” Changkyun sighed, fixing his eyes to meet with Kihyun’s gaze through the mirror. The model pursed his lips, displeasure clearly written all over his face.

_“What?”_

The younger man exhaled, glancing at his watch before turning to place his hand on the door knob. He should have really thought about how much time talking to Kihyun would have taken, because he needed to head up to the executive offices to speak to CEO Son. Changkyun ran his tongue along the bottom of his top row of teeth, deciding to wrap up the conversation quickly, before turning to leave Kihyun alone in his dressing room.

Lowering his wrist and shoving a hand into his own pocket, Changkyun faced the door as he spoke, “You already know that I’ll always be by your side, no matter what, whether as your manager or as your friend. But, sometimes, I want you to ask yourself: _‘what’s the point in being popular if no one likes you?’_ “

And then, Kihyun found himself left all alone with a quiet clicking of the door falling shut.

 

 

 

They don’t really talk until a week and a half after the last time. Kihyun had avoided being alone in the dressing room with Changkyun, and it was obvious. Every single time that he needed to enter the dressing room, he would make sure that Minhyuk, his makeup artist, was with him. And Minhyuk seemed to understand the situation, considering the small, apologetic smile he flashed Changkyun before he sat Kihyun down and touched up the model’s makeup.

The only moment they had alone was the second that Minhyuk left the room to grab a refill of the concealer he was using on Kihyun’s neck. The model’s body had been littered with marks recently, and Changkyun had a good idea of why. He didn’t think that his suggestion to try and _make friends_ would end up in something like this, but there was a good chance that none of this was his fault in the first place—not entirely.

Leaning against the door to make sure that Minhyuk couldn’t get back into the room as quickly, Changkyun cleared his throat, getting Kihyun’s attention, easily.

“Are you going to lecture me, again?” Kihyun asked, tone sounding bitter. Changkyun simply shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “I just want to know how your blackmailing arrangement went from one thing to... well... _this_.”

Kihyun frowned, “What do you mean?”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow at him, “I don’t know if you realize that I pay attention to everything you do out of sheer concern for you, but... sometimes, you get angry, drag Hoseok with you, and then you come back covered in hickeys. You’re asking me what I’m talking about?”

Kihyun’s hand immediately raised to cover the half-concealed bruises on his neck. He had the decency to look guilty for a second, but before he could clear his throat and reply to the younger man, the doorknob jolted and they both turned to look at the door. _Minhyuk was back._

Changkyun turned his attention away from the door first, letting his eyes linger on his best friend for a little longer.

“I don’t really know what you’re planning, Kihyun hyung,” Changkyun said, quietly before stepping away from the door and letting Minhyuk try the doorknob again. “But, truthfully, it doesn’t look like you know, either.”

 

 

 

Distraction showed itself as the way that Kihyun seemingly spaced out when Dayoung gave him instructions to lean against Hoseok. His mind was filled with pondering of Changkyun’s words. Truthfully, he hadn’t the slightest idea of what he was doing with Hoseok at this point, either. And it took the younger man questioning him to genuinely realize it. Kihyun hadn’t seen himself actually _doubting_ himself, when he’d recklessly thrown himself into all of it.

Soft fingertips touched his jaw and tilted his face upwards and Kihyun snapped back into reality. His vision was filled with Hoseok’s dark eyes—the makeup darkening his sharp eyes, and Kihyun felt his breath catch in the back of his throat for a second. He lost himself, for a moment. And for a second, it was strange to look into Hoseok’s eyes when the older model wasn’t staring at him with that twisted lust they always seemed to wrap themselves in. With Hoseok’s fingers on his jaw and tilting it upwards, the blond gazing down at him with a confident tilt of his head. Slowly, Kihyun’s lips parted to speak, but a voice cut him away from the intention.

“That’s perfect!” Dayoung called, “Hold that pose for me!”

 _They were on set._ He’d completely forgotten, even with the bright lights shining down on them and the thick makeup layered onto his skin. There was the sound of the snapping shutter and Kihyun counted the seconds in his head before Hoseok would let him go. The skin where Hoseok touched was beginning to feel warm, and Kihyun adjusted his gaze, sharpening his eyes to meet with Hoseok’s.

He could hear Dayoung making a sound of pleasure as she continued to snap the photos with her camera.

“Can you put your arm around him, Mr. Shin?” Dayoung asked, and Hoseok wrapped his free arm around Kihyun’s waist, keeping his pose still but pulling Kihyun closer to his body. The younger model held his breath for a second.

And it took a second for him to remind himself that this was his _job_ —to pose for the camera with other people. He shouldn’t feel so distorted with the blond’s simple movement.

“Okay, Mr. Yoo, could you lean against Mr. Shin’s shoulder? We’ll get a shot of Mr. Shin’s back! You should look comfortable leaning against him, but don’t smile!” she instructed.

They easily moved into position, and when Hoseok’s face was out of the camera’s shot, he tightened his grip around Kihyun’s waist and in a quiet voice, the blond whispered: _“Focus. You’re going to get scolded again, if you don’t. We don’t want to have to reschedule this shoot, again.”_

It almost felt affectionate when Hoseok brought a hand up to gently nudge Kihyun’s head to rest against his broad shoulder—the touch. And for a second, he could genuinely let himself relax into the touch, and he couldn’t pinpoint the reason behind it. The silent interaction seemed to please Dayoung beyond belief, because she said nothing more as she continued to take her shots.

And when the shoot finally came to a close, Kihyun found himself speechless and feeling a strange urge to follow after the taller model and thank him for the guidance that he provided throughout the shoot. Surely, Kihyun would have been scolded again for spacing out in the middle of the shoot without Hoseok around, because it was far from professional of him to blank out when he was supposed to be taking instructions from the photographer. There wasn’t an excuse for his mind leaving him in the middle of the job. Despite their differences and how poorly Kihyun always treated him, Hoseok had simply guided him without a single word of a complaint.

As Changkyun approached him to tell him that they were headed home, Kihyun almost hit himself for letting his mind wander, again. But, he couldn’t help but think: _honestly, maybe, Shin Hoseok wasn’t all that bad._

(But, wasn’t it too late of a realization?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, i'm actually sorry for not updating in like 4.5 months, but i think i'm going to do my best to speed finish this work before my summer is over. uh, i promise that's a promise that you guys can hold me accountable for!


	4. 3rd look.

“I don’t see what everyone sees in him that’s apparently so special,” Kihyun clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as he reached out to accept the cup of coffee which Minhyuk had brought to him. The makeup artist sat down across from him in the waiting room, grinning in amusement (but there was something about the natural expression on Minhyuk’s face which made him look eternally amused at everything).

They were alone for the first time in a while. Changkyun had to attend a meeting with the CEO, again, and the young manager had finally managed to coax CEO Son into letting him accept a photo shoot for Kihyun, alone. With the reasoning that the strict contract for him to work with Hoseok was for a single company, it seemed that other companies were more than happy to sign a temporary contract with Kihyun.

The representatives of different brands walked through the halls, after being rejected by Son Hyunwoo himself. They stopped Changkyun in the hallways with cheeky smiles (surprisingly recognizing him as Yoo Kihyun’s manager) and attempts to make him agree to let Kihyun sign with them for a few shoots (“His image is perfect for our brand!” they exclaimed, before quietly asking him to change his CEO’s mind). Changkyun had been hesitant, initially, but he supposed that Kihyun really needed the time away from working exclusively with Shin Hoseok.

The time away from Changkyun was nice, because the younger man always seemed to be keeping a close eye on him. Kihyun wouldn’t mind it in any other circumstance, but the fact that there was an unreadable look in Changkyun’s eyes whenever he looked at him, it was a little unsettling. It always, to him, seemed like his best friend (and manager) knew a lot more than he let on, and sometimes, Kihyun just wanted him to tell him what was on his mind—but, other times, the young model didn’t want to have the slightest idea of what was happening in Changkyun’s mind, because he knew that it wouldn’t be something good. That much was obvious, because Changkyun didn’t smile as often as he used to, these days, and Kihyun knew that he was likely to be a good portion of that blame.

During the short break times from standing in the bright lights of the studio, Kihyun couldn’t be more grateful to have such a friendly artist by his side. Lee Minhyuk was always willing to have a conversation, because when they weren’t working with Lim Dayoung, Minhyuk didn’t have a friend to speak to while the models were being photographed. Jooheon wasn’t with them, and the red-haired man got lonely. And sometimes, Minhyuk proved himself as good company—a good conversation, at the very least.

“Who?” he asked, even though his tone proved that he knew exactly what Kihyun was talking about. Minhyuk, for as long as Kihyun had known him, was someone who liked working words out of people, instead of making assumptions.

The model frowned, watching as Minhyuk ran his fingers through his dark red locks, “Shin Hoseok.”

Minhyuk took a sip from his own latte, humming, “Ah, of course. Are you asking me, or are you just complaining?”

Kihyun shot him a look, “It was rhetorical, Minhyuk.”

“I have an answer for you anyway, if you want it.” Kihyun raised an entirely unimpressed eyebrow at his makeup artist, and Minhyuk easily shrugged in response. There was a silence for a split second between the two of them, and Minhyuk kept his drink by his lips, shielding the change of his expression with the rim of the cup.

“Hit me with your best shot,” Kihyun said. Minhyuk lowered his drink and smiled.

“I knew you’d be interested,” the red-haired artist said. Kihyun rolled his eyes. The smile that tugged at the corner of Minhyuk’s lips had Kihyun furrowing his brows in confusion. Minhyuk continued, “He’s popular because he’s attentive, you know? He’s someone who pays attention to everyone around him and makes sure they know that he’s always there for them. People like him because he’s selfless, especially for someone in this industry. It’s hard to find people like him, so it’s a fresh attitude in a dark, dreary industry.”

“People like him because he pays attention to them?” Kihyun repeated, sounding slightly baffled.

Minhyuk shrugged, “People like attention, and he pays attention to the little things about every single person in this industry. I haven’t known him for very long, but I’ve known Chae Hyungwon for a while and I know exactly why Hyungwon raised him into a model and then threw him to the sharks.”

“Threw him to sharks,” Kihyun looked at Minhyuk, frowning. Minhyuk grinned.

“It’s a figure of speech,” he replied. “Chae Hyungwon could have easily chosen to stay by Shin Hoseok’s side. He was on the verge of retiring when he had Hoseok audition for Starship, anyway. He could have easily chosen to become his manager, instead of asking Ms. Yoon to do it. He wanted Hoseok to figure everything out for himself and grow stronger, because you don’t do well in this industry if you have someone hold your hand.”

No one got anywhere in life if they always had someone holding onto their hand and guiding them through every single one of their problems. Kihyun knew that well enough. It was a mentality that he was taught as a child, and it had always been something that stuck with him. _Independence was the strongest mindset, regardless of how helpful collaboration could be_ —an independent person could always work alone and adapt to work with others, but someone who relied on others would drown in a terrifying ocean of unknown dangers.

“And how do you know all this?”

Minhyuk flashed a secretive smile at him, “I have a lot of connections in this industry for someone who just draws on faces for a living.”

Kihyun managed a laugh at Minhyuk’s description of his own career. The young model took a sip of his coffee and pursed his lips into a frown, pondering the words. “How can someone be so selfless in an industry like this?”

“Some people really don’t care about the consequences of their actions as much as you’d think,” Minhyuk replied, shrugging. “Or at least, that’s what I like to think. A lot of people think that Hoseok thinks he has nothing to lose, so he works to please everyone—other people, the antis on the fan boards, think that he’s hiding something under his kindness. Either way, I think it’ll ruin him, sometime in his life. It’s really none of my business, though.”

Minhyuk turned his attention to Kihyun’s face for a second, and he flashed a small smile, “Hey, but Changkyun told me that you weren’t here to make friends with anyone. Are you here to fall in love, then?”

Kihyun choked on his coffee, immediately jolting from his comfortable position on the seat and placing the cup down, coughing up the liquid that burned down his throat the wrong way. Coughing with his eyes teary, Kihyun shot Minhyuk a glare and the makeup artist helplessly pat his back in an attempt to soothe the choking.

“Sorry,” Minhyuk told him, though he sounded so much more interested than apologetic. Kihyun brushed it off as it simply being _Minhyuk_.

The makeup artist rubbed his back with his hand, comforting and Kihyun cleared his throat, roughly. “I’m not falling in love with anyone,” he croaked. The red-haired makeup artist pursed his lips into a frown. “Especially not Shin Hoseok.”

“You’re certainly interested in him for someone who claims that they don’t care about him,” Minhyuk said. It briefly dawned on Kihyun that his dislike for Hoseok might have been a lot more obvious than he’d initially thought. Changkyun wouldn’t have told Minhyuk everything about Kihyun’s disdain, so the red-haired man had to have figured it out by himself. And considering the fact that Minhyuk seemed to observant of everything around him, it wasn’t hard to believe that he’d figured it all out. “You know, Kihyun, I’m not saying you’re wrong, since I don’t like making assumptions... but a third party always sees situations a lot clearer than the parties involved.”

Kihyun frowned, straightening back up, “I’m not falling in love with him, and I’m not going to fall in love with him.”

Minhyuk bit back a mischievous smile and he leaned back in his chair. There were obvious unsaid words between them and Kihyun found himself unsettled by the way Minhyuk looked at him. But, the red-haired man said nothing more that Kihyun wanted to hear. Instead, he tilted his head, “Then, is it just sex to you?”

It took Kihyun by surprise and he turned his head to look at Minhyuk in disbelief, “How did you know?”

“About what?” he asked, “The sex?”

He didn’t need Kihyun to answer him. Minhyuk crossed his legs over one another and flashed a smile.

“I’m your makeup artist,” he said. “I may not say anything at all, but Kihyun-ah, _I see everything_.”

 

 

 

Soft gray wisps of smoke threaded towards the sky, floating away from Kihyun’s lips and the thin cigarette between his fingers. With his eyes shut, Kihyun leaned against the railing of the rooftop, letting the wind push through his styled hair and kiss his skin with as he let himself drown in his thoughts.

For some strange reason, Minhyuk’s words stuck to him. Something about the confidence in the way Minhyuk spoke as he questioned Kihyun was unsettling, but something about it also made him want to think a little more about his own actions—his own thoughts. Yoo Kihyun had changed a lot since the moment he’d stepped into the modelling industry, but there was a question of if the changes to his attitude were permanent changes.

He was terrible to someone who the world seemed to view as _selfless_ , and it made him think: _should he be feeling guilt for something like that?_ He couldn’t tell himself the answer. A deep inhale of the smoke into his lungs had his eyes opening again, staring into the glowing sunset.

There was the soft pattering of footsteps from behind him, and Kihyun kept his eyes forward, ignoring the added presence on the rooftop. The sound of the footsteps sounded familiar enough for him to make assumptions for who it could have been, interrupting his time alone. And if they were looking for him, it was only Changkyun that would be able to know where he was in the middle of the day.

“You’re going to kill yourself with that, you know?” came Changkyun’s deep voice from behind him. Kihyun didn’t bother turning to look at his manager.

“We’re all going to die, someday,” he replied, easily.

A quiet scoff left Changkyun’s lips, and had he not been attentively listening to the younger man’s voice, he might have missed the sound before it escaped with the wind. “Are you going to give up before you achieve everything you want?”

Kihyun shrugged, dropping the cigarette and turning to look at his best friend, crushing the glowing flame beneath his shoes. A humourless laugh left Kihyun’s lips and he raised a brow, “Did you come here to scold me, again?”

Changkyun simply shook his head, moving to lean against the railing beside Kihyun. The model turned his head, following Changkyun’s movement but not saying anything more. He ignored Kihyun’s question. “My best friend would never give up before he could achieve all of his dreams and tell someone, proudly, that he made it,” Changkyun said, looking out into the cityscape. “But, then again... my best friend also wouldn’t have _blackmailed_ someone.”

“What do you _want_ , Changkyun?” Kihyun finally asked, exasperated with listening to the younger man talk circles around the point. “You gave me everything, when I asked for it, and now you’re asking me what I’m doing? You handed me the ammunition and you’re asking why I pulled the trigger?”

Changkyun turned his head to let his eyes meet with Kihyun’s. There was a glow in them that Kihyun swore he’d never seen before. There were glimmers of hurt in Changkyun’s eyes when he looked at Kihyun, recently, but this was something close to _betrayal_ and it felt like a part of Kihyun was breaking apart, somewhere deep inside. _Changkyun was looking at_ him _with those eyes._

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “But, what do you want from Shin Hoseok?”

Kihyun faltered, unable to answer the younger man.

“You’ve changed so much since you became a model, Kihyun,” Changkyun breathed. “This industry is cruel, yes, but when you asked me to join you in the path towards your dreams, I didn’t think that a simple career was going to take my best friend away from me.”

“I’m still here,” Kihyun managed to say, biting down onto his lower lip. His tone shook, unsure of where Changkyun was taking their conversation. But, there was that same unsettling feeling that burned into the back of his head, and weighed his heart down; _heavy_.

Changkyun turned to look at him, and this time, Kihyun could recognize the look in his eyes— _pity._

“But, you’re so different,” he replied. “You’re so different from the man I befriended, that I don’t think I could recognize you, anymore. If someone were to tell me that _this man in front of me_ was the man I grew up alongside—the man that I proudly called my best friend—I really don’t think I could believe them, anymore.

“I really wanted to stay by your side until the very end. I promised you that I’d stand by your side through thick and thin, because that’s what a good friend is supposed to do. I’m your best friend—I owe you at least that much for everything you’ve ever done for me, when we were children. But, my conscious won’t let me stand by your side when you’re so cruel to someone else—who really doesn’t deserve it. I, as your friend, handed you the ammunition to fire against someone else, but I also handed that to you with the hope and belief that you _wouldn’t_ pull the trigger.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, with my time away from you. Every long walk to the main office to talk to our CEO, I’d think about you and how much you’ve changed. Sometimes, it makes me sad to think that you’ve gone so far from the kind Kihyun who would give up everything to see a stranger sitting on the street smile, even if it meant giving up his lunch money and skipping lunch, because _someone smiled_. I admired you for all of that, you know?

“You simply _aren’t_ the man that I made those promises to, anymore. You’ve changed so much, hyung. And, so...” Changkyun paused, looking down at his feet and pushing himself off the railing. He straightened up and shoved his hands into his pockets with a frown twisting onto his lips, “I’m sorry to say, but _hyung_ , until you can find that humane part of your soul again, _you’re on your own_.”

And the world came crashing down around Kihyun. Forever, he’d thought that his best friend couldn’t ever leave his side, but Changkyun was always firm with his decisions. If there was anything Kihyun had ever learned from the years of being Im Changkyun’s best friend, it was that.

So, when Changkyun stepped away from the railing with his eyes still trained on Kihyun, he stood frozen where he was. His best friend backed away from him slowly, their eyes still locked together and Kihyun felt his insides ripping apart. And he’d say that he felt _betrayed_ , but letting Changkyun’s words sink into his mind reminded him clearly that _he_ wasn’t the one being betrayed—didn’t have the right to feel like that.

But, when he snapped back to reality, Changkyun’s hand was already on the door handle of the rooftop’s entrance, standing several meters away from him.

With his heart somewhere in his throat, Kihyun forced his body to move—to run after Changkyun. The pound of metal sounded loudly when the door shut behind Changkyun, and he could still hear the younger man’s footsteps as he headed down the stairs.

Waking his mind, Kihyun ran after his best friend, frantically pushing the door open and running down the stairs, only to run right into someone. Looking up, Kihyun met with Hoseok’s familiar features and he froze, body running cold. He immediately tore his eyes away, not letting himself look at the older man any longer.

Hoseok reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Kihyun,” he called. Kihyun’s hand formed a tight fist and he grit his teeth, unsure of what to say to the other man. He didn’t have anything to say that would be worth Hoseok’s time—he didn’t deserve to speak to anyone aside from Changkyun, right now. Not when he’d just been slapped in the face with reality by his best friend.

Ignoring him, Kihyun shrugged off the older man’s touch and ran down the stairs after Changkyun.

_He couldn’t look him in the eye._


	5. 4th look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this work ended up taking a slightly different route from what i'd initially intended. i took the rating down and removed a tag. and this will be the second last chapter.

“You’re still doing this?” Hoseok asked, eyebrow arched when he opened the door to his apartment and see Kihyun sitting on the sofa, as if it was his own apartment. He walked into the apartment, the presence of the younger man in the apartment not phasing him in the slightest. The blond model ran his fingers through his hair and frowned, “I thought you gave the key back to me?”

“Well, clearly I didn’t,” Kihyun replied, rolling his eyes. Hoseok didn’t need to see his face to know that he rolled his eyes at him. He didn’t move from where he was on the sofa, but the aura around him clearly declared that he was upset. The both of them knew what it meant when Kihyun was in a bad mood. Every single time Kihyun was near him, they knew what was going to happen next—it was just a matter of waiting until it happened.

Hoseok immediately headed for the fridge, opening it and raising an eyebrow at the lack of contents. From the sofa, Kihyun raised a hand, holding several empty cans of beer in them.

“I’ll pay you back,” he said. Brows furrowing, Hoseok approached where the younger man was now laying down on the sofa comfortably. He crossed his arms over his chest and his lips tugged into a frown.

“I don’t really mind the company,” Hoseok told him, “But, at least bring your own alcohol if you’re going to get smashed and crash at my place. Especially without telling me, first.”

“I don’t have your number,” Kihyun replied, simply. And it dawned on Hoseok then that the younger man wasn’t exactly sober. Resisting the urge to let out a suffering sigh at the state of the younger model, Hoseok moved Kihyun’s legs, forcefully and sat down on the sofa next to him.

“But, you have the keys to my apartment, because that makes a lot of sense,” he remarked, reaching for the device Kihyun threw on the coffee table, carelessly. He looked at the younger man’s phone for a second and he frowned, “What’s your password?”

“0987,” Kihyun replied, finally opening his eyes again and looking at Hoseok. “What are you doing?”

The blond ignored his question, “How much did you drink?”

“I had three cans of your beer,” he said, forgetting about his previous question and focusing on the older man’s inquiry, “And I finished a bottle of wine before I came here.”

Pausing in adding his number to Kihyun’s contacts, Hoseok raised an eyebrow, “And how long have you been in my apartment?”

Kihyun looked up at the clock, eyes rolling, “Maybe an hour or two? What time is it?”

“It’s nine,” Hoseok replied, “You’ve been here since seven?”

“No,” he said, “I’ve been here since five.”

“Kihyun, what are you doing drinking in the middle of the day?” Hoseok asked, finally turning to him and putting down Kihyun’s phone. His number was newly saved into the younger man’s phone and he’d probably wonder how it got there in the morning, but Hoseok wouldn’t mind it. Kihyun seemed to be a little bit mindless, recently. And Hoseok supposed that he knew why that might be the case, but he never pried.

“I just feel sad,” he answered, easily. And for a second, Hoseok frowned—ever since the day he’d seen (and heard) Kihyun speaking to Changkyun, the younger man didn’t seem the same. Something about him seemed like that confident and invincible attitude that surrounded Kihyun was gone—the sickening pride.

Had it been weeks ago, then Kihyun would never have answered the question so easily. He never thought that Hoseok deserved answers. But, in front of him was a young man who lost his best friend and was drunk out of his mind. A shell of the person that he used to know as Yoo Kihyun. And perhaps, this was more like the Yoo Kihyun that existed; perhaps, the Yoo Kihyun that he knew wasn’t real. He’d kept the suspicions for months; slowly worked at cracking the code that was the cruel model who tried to hold his past against him—from the moment that Kihyun walked into the studio with his head held high with a pride that Hoseok swore was so much more fragile than it seemed.

He could have been risking everything, simply being interested in Kihyun was dangerous to his career. The younger man was a ticking time bomb that was threatening to ruin everything that Hoseok built up alongside the man who pulled him away from a toxic environment and gently placed him into another—a better place that somehow was just as bad as the previous, but undeniably _better_.

Hoseok couldn’t ask him anything directly; Kihyun’s guard was always set so high—didn’t dare to drop it, and it was something that Hoseok could see in him which reminded him that despite being so famous already, Kihyun was still new to the industry. Hyungwon had always told him that someone who was new to the industry was always so guarded and so scared of being broken down into nothing. All the rumors which surrounded the modeling industry lead to the belief that you couldn’t trust anyone. Truthfully, Hoseok understood that much of it.

But, pairing it with what he’d accidentally overheard Changkyun tell Kihyun before he walked away from the model—pairing it with everything that Changkyun told him, when he pulled him to the side, desperately—it didn’t make sense that Kihyun was falling to pieces in front of him, like this. Changkyun described him as so much stronger, not fragile like the drunken man laying down in Hoseok’s apartment.

“What are you sad about?” Hoseok asked, shifting to face the younger man. He’d just gotten off of work and he’d been scolded in the car for his performance for the day, but dealing with Kihyun was far from what he expected when he stepped up to his apartment. He’d been hoping for rest, but he certainly wasn’t going to be getting it, when Kihyun was in his apartment with no clear intent to leave anytime soon.

“Everything,” Kihyun said, looking up at him, eyes seemingly empty. And for the first time, Hoseok didn’t see that mischievous glint in the younger man’s eyes—the glow that told Hoseok that he should be wary of what Kihyun knew, because it might be a little bit too dangerous if he were to take a wrong step. “Everything makes me so sad.”

And Hoseok wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in response to something like that. For a moment, Kihyun looked so familiar—something like what Hoseok looked like, when Hyungwon found him curled up in his apartment, crying about how the industry he worked for treated him like garbage. _How was he supposed to treat the man who usually spoke to him like he was holding him at gunpoint with a fully loaded gun? How was he supposed to deal with that same man who was now so fragile in front of him?_

“I feel so sad,” Kihyun repeated, sitting up and curling in on himself; knees tucked under his arms. He looked so small and helpless on the sofa and Hoseok felt a twinge of pity for the younger man. “Nothing feels real.”

The truth was that Kihyun felt lost without Changkyun around. Without his best friend around, he had no one else, and Hoseok was the only person who was willing to hold him in his arms, despite their relationship. They might have been rivals for the camera, but Hoseok held his hand when he needed it. And surely, Hoseok would never know about the way that he helped him just by sitting by his side. Whether rivals or not, Hoseok was his shoulder to cry on, now.

The older man reached out, instinctively and brushed his fingers against Kihyun’s cheek, “I’m real,” he replied. “You can feel me touch you, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Kihyun answered, looking up at him again. “But, everything else is falling apart. My best friend left me and I don’t know what to do with my life. He’s the only person I trust. What am I supposed to do without him? I did things that I shouldn’t have ever done, and now, everything is turning on me. Is this what I deserve?”

A part of Hoseok almost wanted to tell him _‘yes, this is the world taking revenge on you for blackmailing me’_ , but the kinder part of his heart calmed the temptation and he raised his hand to brush gently through Kihyun’s hair. Despite everything, Hoseok was curious about what had twisted Kihyun to become the person he’d known to hold him down and try to get ahead with all of his nasty plots before anything else. And before that, Shin Hoseok was a kind person.

(And Hyungwon never understood how he could always be so blindly kind to the people around him; always told him that it was the reason that he was always trampled. Hoseok never agreed with him.)

“Maybe it’s what the person you pretend to be deserves,” Hoseok whispered, softly with his fingers still gently running through the younger man’s dark locks. “But, it isn’t what you deserve. I don’t know you at all; I don’t know who Yoo Kihyun really is, but I’ll tell you this: _I don’t think it’s what you deserve, at all._ ”

And a drunken Kihyun didn’t bother pushing him away.

 

 

 

Kihyun stayed the night with him.

Hoseok was generous enough to give Kihyun the bed. Or at least, that was what the younger man realized when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed and to different walls. He certainly wasn’t the type of person to sleep around (it was improper of a celebrity just stepping into his career) and he could hardly remember the previous night, but the scent on the blankets told him that he was in Hoseok’s apartment.

Slowly rousing from his slumber, the young model looked around the room, taking in his surroundings. The room was neat; this was a part of Hoseok’s apartment that he’d never been in before.

The walls were a simple white colour and all of the furniture in the room was black. Kihyun always thought that Hoseok was the type of person who would make his bedroom look like something straight out of a magazine. That was just the air that he held himself with, but in all honesty, Kihyun couldn’t say he knew very much about the older model save the information on his online profiles and everything in the documents that Changkyun handed him. Even after months of working so closely with the blond, he never really learned anything about him.

Perhaps, that was a mistake, but Kihyun brushed it off like he never realized it in the first place. _It wasn’t important._

In the corner of the room, there was a bookshelf filled with books—Kihyun never took Hoseok as the type to like reading, and perhaps it was all for show, but the mint condition of each book on the shelf proved otherwise. They must have been handled often to look like they did. To his left, there was a desk and a laptop sat on it; lid open, device charging with a blinking orange light, but it was off. His room was neat and tidy, save a small hamper of clothing in the corner of the room—maybe from days that he was too tired to walk to put his laundry away properly.

Surrounding him was the gentle scent of a burning candle; the orange flame burned atop the nightstand beside where Kihyun laid in Hoseok’s bed. The flame hadn’t eaten away at much of the wax and turned it to liquid; Hoseok must have lit it recently. Turning his head to look into the burning flame, Kihyun noticed the glass of water and two painkillers set neatly onto a napkin—he supposed it was for him, considering the throbbing in the back of his head.

Minhyuk’s voice echoed in his mind, reminding him of Hoseok’s kindness. And perhaps, he’d never understand how someone like Hoseok survived so well in the industry they worked for with such a pure heart. Reaching for the glass and the painkiller, Kihyun popped the pill into his mouth and knocked back half the glass of water.

Just beside where the glass and pills were placed, there was a picture frame. It piqued Kihyun’s interest when he set the glass back down onto the nightstand and pushed the covers aside. In the photo, Hoseok was seen with his arm hooked around Minhyuk’s shoulders, and they both held peace signs to the camera; they looked so much younger than they were, now. It had Kihyun wondering how long the make-up artist had really known Shin Hoseok for.

His train of thought was disrupted by the sound of an unfamiliar voice breaking the silence he’d wrapped himself in. Kihyun froze, turning to face the door. And in the midst of his shock, he couldn’t make out the words being spoken.

Then, Hoseok’s voice filtered through the door, sounding as if he was slowly headed towards the room, and Kihyun immediately curled under the sheets, pretending to be still asleep under the thick blankets.

“Don’t be silly,” he said. Kihyun could hear his voice clearly, but he couldn’t make out the voice of the person he was speaking to. “There’s no point in aiming your gun back at a poor shooter with more ammunition than you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” came the other man’s voice. The tone was obviously stressed, as if they’d been talking for a while and Hoseok wasn’t listening to any of his words. Kihyun couldn’t put a name to the sound of the voice, but he swore it sounded familiar.

Hoseok’s voice sounded as if he was right in front of the door when he spoke again.

“He has so much more against me than I could ever hold against him,” Hoseok replied, simply. There was the sound of hands against wood; Hoseok putting his hand on the door. Kihyun tensed under the sheets, fingers curling around the plush blankets. “It just means that I know what I should try and what I shouldn’t. I might be tired of trying to figure everything out instead of playing offense, but I’ll stick with perfecting my defense.”

There was the scraping sound of Hoseok’s hand as it moved to the doorknob. Kihyun held his breath.

“Hyungwon-ah,” Hoseok called, after a moment of silence. “You really don’t need to worry too much about me. I owe you enough as it is. I’ll be fine. He’s really not too big of a threat, you know? Some of us put up better masks than you’d think. But, I’ll be fine. And if that’s all you wanted to ask me, then I’m sure you can show yourself out? I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, so I’d like to take a nap. It’s my day off, after all.”

“Sometimes,” Hyungwon said, finally. “I don’t know what goes on in your head, but you always sound so sure of yourself that I can’t even argue against you. You know that I’m looking out for you, right?”

“Of course I do,” Hoseok answered, “You’ve always been looking out for me, and I appreciate it. But, sometimes, the things we find along the road aren’t as venomous as we think it might be.”

He could hardly work out the context of their conversation, but something told him that it wasn’t something he shouldn’t have heard in the first place. There was the sound of footsteps shuffling against the ground—Hyungwon turning to leave the apartment. And the distant sound of the door falling shut was followed with Hoseok sighing softly and knocking his forehead against the door.

Kihyun pretended to be asleep when Hoseok opened the door to the bedroom and stepped in. He held his breath.

“You’re awake,” Hoseok said, after a second. Kihyun jolted in surprise, peeking out from underneath the covers and giving away his cover of pretending to be asleep.

“How did you know?” he asked, quietly.

Hoseok flashed a small smile, “You took the painkillers and drank the water. You obviously had to be awake to do that. I’m surprised that you took the pills; I didn’t think you trusted me enough.”

Kihyun bit down on his lower lip, lowering the blankets and pushing them into his lap, sitting up on the bed.

“I didn’t take you for someone who would have a bunch of sketchy drugs laying around, disguised as painkillers. I probably would have been okay with dying by your hands like this,” Kihyun said. Hoseok arched a brow. “All the evidence in here, you know? I’m in your apartment, in your bed; you and I are the only ones who have the keys. Paparazzi probably knows when you came home and if you left your apartment—if I were to die here, there’s nothing that could really prove you innocent.”

“Unless you purposefully overdosed,” Hoseok pointed out. Kihyun shrugged.

“I don’t think that passing my dead body through a drug test could reveal overdose symptoms, if all I took was a single pill that I thought was a painkiller,” Kihyun said. Hoseok shook his head.

“You certainly have all of that figured out pretty well, don’t you?”

“... I have to be careful,” Kihyun answered, simply. Hoseok approached the bed, a slight frown on his lips.

“You don’t trust me?”

“Of course not.”

“But, you lean on me when you have no one else,” Hoseok remarked. Kihyun froze, shifting his eyes and not knowing where to look. He stared down at his hands, biting down on his lower lip. “Isn’t that some form of trust?”

“You’re stress relief,” he answered, after a moment. His tone was hesitant and his fingers gripped into the sheets. “You don’t ask about anything when I tell you to fuck me. You just do it, because I’m holding something against you, and you know that it’s better to do what I say. But, that doesn’t mean I trust you in any way.”

Hoseok hummed, leaning to blow out the candle on the nightstand. Kihyun watched him, carefully. The blond sat down on the edge of the bed, beside Kihyun’s seated figure and he studied the younger man. He was wordless as he did so, but the younger model shifted in discomfort at the silently prying eyes.

“Is that so?” Hoseok asked, raising his eyes to meet with Kihyun’s. “How are you feeling? Do you have a hangover?”

The sudden change of the subject had Kihyun’s mind reeling with a scramble of thoughts; calculating and failing to piece together the reasons of why Hoseok was so kind to him, despite everything.

“I feel fine,” he replied, stiffly. Hoseok nodded, clasping his hands together and looking up at the ceiling with his lips pursed, as if he was considering what to say next. Kihyun uncomfortably shifted in the bed and he bit down on his lower lip, chewing at it nervously.

“Do you remember anything about last night?” he asked, after a moment.

Kihyun looked up, eyes meeting with Hoseok’s. He hesitated.

His mind couldn’t recall the events of the previous night. He could hardly recall the reason he’d ended up in Hoseok’s apartment, either, but he supposed that he took himself there. There was a vague memory of his own hand unlocking the door to Hoseok’s apartment and letting himself in. Hoseok took his silence as a negative response.

“We talked,” he remarked. “You and I. Without all the yelling and the rough sex. We actually talked, and you were drunk out of your mind, but you seemed so humane—it was like I was seeing someone else. Have you ever heard that drunk people are the most honest?”

“What are you—?”

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok answered. “I’m just saying that I think you’re not as frightening as you think you are. I think you just might not be who you pretend to be.”

Kihyun grit his teeth, eyes narrowing as he looked at the older man. “Are you provoking me?”

“I’m not,” Hoseok answered, smiling. Kihyun couldn’t understand the curve of the older man’s lips. Whenever Kihyun snapped at him, no matter how angrily, Hoseok always seemed to keep his calm and flash a peaceful smile. He couldn’t work out the reason behind the older model’s tranquil state of mind—not when his own mind was a whirling hurricane setting off sirens and demanding he never drop his guard. “Not everything in the world is always so hostile, Kihyun.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Kihyun spat, brows furrowing and his head shaking with his strong disagreement to Hoseok’s words. “You sound like a hopeful _child._ Everyone knows that this is one of the most toxic industries to work in. Everyone is trying to step on each other and get by; become the better one. _Everyone_ knows that.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Hoseok added, a hand raising to gently brush Kihyun’s hair out of his face. And he didn’t say it, but it was almost as if Kihyun could hear the echo of the following words in the back of his mind: _‘I’m not trying to hurt you, you’re the one trying to hurt me.’_

Kihyun remained silent in response to the remark.

“I just wish you’d maybe give me a chance to show you that everything isn’t as terrible as you think it is.”

“You don’t have to wish for anything,” Kihyun grit his teeth, venom seeping through his words. “I don’t trust you. I hate you. I don’t understand why you think you can be so kind to me all the time, as if it’s going to change anything. This isn’t some fairy tale where some pathetic main character is told that kindness solves everything, and it does. This is cruel, harsh reality and nothing about it is shimmery and splendid like it is in fairy tales.”

Throwing the sheets off of his body, Kihyun moved to scramble out of the bed and Hoseok watched him, wordlessly. Hoseok never seemed to question anything that the younger man did, and to some degree, it frustrated him beyond belief. He couldn’t work out why the older man was ever so kind to him; didn’t understand the way that Hoseok’s mind worked, because it was nothing like the way his own mind worked.

 _Everything in the world was trying to take you down. It was you against the world. Why didn’t Hoseok understand that mindset? Why didn’t Hoseok live by the same standard that he did? How could he be so kind in such an unforgiving industry?_ The questions burned like bile in the back of his throat, wanting to spill from his lips but he held it back, not wanting to submit to anything that might show a sign of weakness in his defense.

The older man simply watched as Kihyun walked away from him, eyes focused on his retreating back.

“Can I tell you something before you leave, Kihyun?” Hoseok called, when Kihyun’s hand was on the doorknob.

He froze. And then after a moment, he spoke, “... what is it?”

“Take it however you may want to,” he said, his tone sounding distant and, “But, I don’t think anyone has ever told you—in an industry like this, you have a choice: you both succumb to the toxic environment, and play offense or you suck it up and play defense. There’s no doing both, because neither is strong enough, if anyone tries to knock you down. But when you’re not playing defense, one wrong move will take you down.”

Kihyun furrowed his brows, turning his head, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Hoseok flashed a smile at him.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to work out, don’t you think?” he said.

“So, you’re going to say shit and then not explain yourself? Perfect.” Kihyun snapped, frowning at the older man. There was something amusing about the way that Kihyun’s expression twisted in disdain, but Hoseok was far from focused on the younger man’s displeasure. He’d genuinely been providing advice to the younger model—for a reason that he could hardly answer himself, but it simply felt right to try and gently guide Kihyun in a different direction.

_(Something about him reminded Hoseok so much of a lost child.)_

“I said you could take it however you wanted to.”

With a glare, Kihyun sauntered out of his apartment. And when he heard the door clicking shut, Hoseok fell back on his bed, inhaling a shaky breath. His hand raised to massage his temples, hissing at the sudden throbbing pain in his head.

 

 

 

Hoseok’s words resonated in his mind with a disturbing echo. Working out the meaning behind the words was difficult—Kihyun found himself wanting to figure it out, though. There was always something so mysterious about Hoseok, and perhaps it was only because he never bothered to listen to anything the older man said—never bothered to pay more attention to anything aside from the model’s fame. Because greater fame evoked jealousy somewhere in his mind and it made him hate Hoseok unreasonably.

It sounded like something that Changkyun would tell him. His mind seemed to take its own route to remind him of the more humane things, when Changkyun wasn’t around; when he was alone.

Changkyun wouldn’t reply to his texts; he’d receive his schedule information through a half-assed text, most likely a message Changkyun texted Minhyuk and was forwarded. On some days, Minhyuk would kindly offer to drop by and pick him to take him to the studio, but otherwise, he was on his own.

And truthfully, Kihyun had never seen Changkyun so dedicated to avoiding anyone, but knowing that his best friend was putting in so much effort to leave him alone _hurt._ He supposed that he deserved it.

With a nervous text to Minhyuk, Kihyun managed to convince the make-up artist to drive him to the studio where Hoseok was having a solo photo-shoot for the day. He wasn’t supposed to be there, but a week after listening to the blond’s words, it haunted him to the point of needing to speak to the older man about it.

_What had he meant by all of it?_

But, he found himself sitting on the bench outside of the studio, too hesitant to walk into the photo studio and sit next to where Hoseok’s manager and the make-up artists were seated.

Time flew as he played on his phone, waiting for the photo-shoot to end; scrolling through his contacts and debating texting Changkyun, but then deciding against it. His interest was piqued when he noticed a new contact in his phone: _Hoseok_ —couldn’t help but wonder when it’d gotten there in the first place. But, his attention was taken away from his phone, when the door to the studio opened and then the staff were filing out of the room.

They barely spared him a glance as they left. Kihyun mentally counted every single person leaving the room, but he couldn’t spot the model. And for a second, he considered that _maybe,_ Minhyuk didn’t take him to the right place. But, surely, he’d seen Chae Hyungwon leaving the room and everyone in the industry that Hyungwon only ever came to Hoseok’s shoots. And, unless the retired model had a shoot that no one knew about, then it couldn’t have been wrong.

Getting out of his seat when the stream of people leaving the room with all of their equipment trickled to a stop, Kihyun peered into the studio, quietly. And surely enough, the blond model was still in the room— _alone_.

He was leaning over one of the bags he had on a bench and folding his clothing into the bag, zipping it up and moving to pick it up. The older model moved slowly, though—different from what Kihyun was used to seeing. It might have been nerve-wracking if he could read the atmosphere, but Kihyun was somewhat oblivious to reading the aura around Hoseok—he’d never paid enough attention to really see the differences.

There was another door in the room, and Hoseok headed for it (with trudging footsteps), not noticing Kihyun entering the room. But, quick footsteps took Kihyun across the room and towards the older man.

“Hoseok!” Kihyun called, reaching out to catch the older man’s wrist.

The blond turned his head to look at him, and everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Slender fingers wrapped around Hoseok’s wrist and Kihyun could see the older man’s eyes roll back, before his entire weight came crashing down on the floor, almost dragging Kihyun’s with him.

The brunet’s blood ran cold.


	6. final look.

“Are you family?” the doctor asked, curiously.

Kihyun shook his head, feeling small underneath the man’s gaze. Changkyun always told him that if anything were to happen to him after his career blew up, then surely, the doctors would give him hell before letting him in to see Kihyun. The nagging in the back of Kihyun’s head continued as white noise as he stared at the doctor—it was seemingly always present, ever since Changkyun told him that he was all alone (and it worked something like a reminder that he once had his best friend always on his back and nagging at him for everything).

“I’m his co-worker,” he replied, quietly. The brunet model’s hands were clasped together in front of him, his eyes downcast, “I just want to know if he’s okay. It’s not so bad that he needs only direct family to be visiting him, right? I mean… I’m the one who brought him here, after all.”

The doctor’s eyes softened at the sincerity in Kihyun’s tone. It was obvious that the doctor hadn’t the slightest clue of their relationship. Looking up at the doctor for a moment, the man studied him before he nodded, “According to the tests we ran on him, he just collapsed from exhaustion. He should be waking up soon; we can let you in, if you want to see him. We’ll just need some identification before we let you in.”

Kihyun uncomfortably wrung his hands together and he nodded, pulling out his wallet. He handed the plastic card to the doctor, who turned to look at the nurse standing beside him, who quickly scribbled Kihyun’s name onto a visiting clipboard. They handed the card back to Kihyun.

“You can come with me,” the nurse said, motioning to show Kihyun the way to Hoseok’s room.

Before moving to follow her, Kihyun swallowed and looked down at his feet. Then, curling his fingers into his palms and finally deciding to speak up, Kihyun glanced at the doctor, biting down on his lower lip and shifting his eyes to the side.

“He didn’t have anyone listed as an emergency contact, right?” Kihyun asked. The nurse arched a curious brow and the doctor shook his head. “No one at all?”

“No,” the doctor answered. “No one at all.”

“Can you do me a favor then?” he asked, quietly. The doctor looked to his nurse, and she nodded at Kihyun. Kihyun fished out a business card that Changkyun had handed to him, months ago; Hyungwon’s personal number was scribed on the back of it. He gave it to the nurse. “Could you please call this number and tell him that Hoseok is here? I don’t know if Hoseok has any direct family living here, but if anyone should be contacted, I know that it’d be him.”

She nodded and took the card from him. The doctor was gone when he turned his head to look back at him, but then the nurse was ushering him into the hospital room where Hoseok was asleep.

In the room, with the lights dimmed and the machines beeping as Hoseok was strapped into them, Kihyun suddenly felt a dread pooling through his veins: a sudden reminder that he shouldn’t be here, because he didn’t have any close connections to Shin Hoseok that would warrant his right to be able to visit the older man.

Forever, Kihyun had a perception of Hoseok that he wasn’t ever quite fond of. He was a known model in the industry and he held himself with a pride; everyone liked him because he was always so kind to everyone he knew. No matter who he spoke to, Kihyun was only greeted with good words about Shin Hoseok. They spoke of him like he was a deity that couldn’t be rivaled; he had everything—beauty, kindness and intelligence. And perhaps from envy grew a hatred for the older model. But, in the dim light surrounding him, Hoseok looked so human and so fragile.

Something that should have been protected, not threatened with destruction.

The guilt pooled in his gut and Kihyun hovered by the door, not sure of what to do next. Hoseok was asleep on the hospital bed and the nurse had left him alone in the room; done with all of the tests she had to perform on the unconscious man. Kihyun’s nerves crawled down his body like a wave of electricity trickling through his veins.

Then, steeling his nerves and taking a breath, Kihyun pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed where Hoseok was lying unconscious. The beeping of the machines around him slowly lulled him into a quiet slumber.

 

 

 

Waking was to the sound of Hoseok’s voice calling his name. Kihyun shot up from his sleeping position with a painful ache in his neck, but he ignored it in order to respond to the calling of his name from where Hoseok was laying down in the hospital bed. Shaking his head and waking himself up, Kihyun straightened out and rubbed his eyes.

“You’re awake,” he managed to say and the other model nodded. “How long have you been awake for?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Hoseok answered, simply. “Long enough for the nurses to realize that I was awake and come in and check up on me. I’m kind of surprised that you slept through all of the ruckus. How long have you been here?”

Kihyun glanced at his watch—it’d been over five hours since he’d fallen asleep on the chair.

“Just a short while,” he lied. Hoseok averted his eyes from him, almost as if he knew that Kihyun was lying, but he said nothing more about the matter. “You freaked me out when you collapsed. The doctor said that you were over-exhausted and collapsed from the pressure of work.”

Hoseok chuckled, nodding. “Sounds about right.”

“Why didn’t you…?” Kihyun cleared his throat, lowering his voice, “Why didn’t you look after yourself if you knew?”

Hoseok shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, does it? I didn’t think you cared that much.”

And before Kihyun could deny it and insist that he did care for the blond, his phone vibrated and rang with the sound of a piano. A part of his heart certainly did care for Hoseok. He wouldn’t have taken him to the hospital if he didn’t care, right? (Or maybe that was just being a decent person; Kihyun couldn’t tell the difference, anymore.)

“Go ahead,” Hoseok told him, when he looked down at the device in his hands. The blond leaned back against the metal frame of the bed and closed his eyes. Kihyun held the device up to his ear, turning away and answering.

The response was immediate—as soon as he picked up the call, the sound of Changkyun’s voice struck him.

 _“Hyung,”_ Changkyun breathed, the static on the other line sounding harshly when the younger man exhaled into the device. Obvious relief strung to his tone as if he were glad that Kihyun finally picked up his phone, _“I heard you were in the hospital! Are you okay? What happened?”_

“I’m fine, Changkyun,” Kihyun replied, his voice quiet. He turned away from the model on the bed, covering the device’s speaker and continuing to speak to his manager on the phone. “It’s Hoseok. He’s the one hospitalized, not me. I just took him here.”

 _“Oh,”_ Changkyun answered. A short silence followed, and then the younger man spoke up, _“What happened to him?”_

“He collapsed from over-exhaustion,” Kihyun told him, hesitantly.

Hoseok’s eyes raised to look at him, as if curious about the conversation.

There was note of concern in Changkyun’s tone when he spoke, and for some odd reason, it settled a calm in Kihyun’s mind—Changkyun still cared for him, at the very least (but of course his best friend would, no matter how hard he tried to avoid him in order to push a point). “Who told you I was here?”

 _“Hyungwon,”_ Changkyun said. _“He called me and told me that he was headed to the hospital because you and Hoseok were there. I thought something happened to you. I… I was worried.”_

“I told the hospital to call Hyungwon,” Kihyun said, after a moment. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

 _“I’m glad you’re okay,”_ Changkyun told him, quietly. _“I have some things to do. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow.”_

And then, the line went dead. The only thing that kept Kihyun’s heart at ease was the promise that Changkyun would see him tomorrow. And perhaps, that was a sign of forgiveness from the younger man. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he really deserved it, but his heart hurt when he thought of his past actions—especially looking at Hoseok now; especially when he was looking at someone who must have been equally as fragile as he was.

They were all fragile in an industry like this—all of them worked to build up and image to the public, and refused to let it break. Being a model meant being a public figure and no matter how fake it was, being fine was what mattered the most. Perhaps, it took Kihyun a little too long to realize that Hoseok was trying to tell him that this high up in fame, he should be working on defending himself instead of attacking others and trying to bring them down.

It took him a little too long to realize that maybe, just maybe, Hoseok’s greatest concern wasn’t in his own reputation, but in the well-being of those around him. And maybe, that was why everyone seemed to like him so much. He took care of people without their knowing—down to even Kihyun, he was trying to guide him in a better direction.

And all this time, Yoo Kihyun was doing his best to drag someone like that down, without caring for his intentions.

“He’s a good kid,” Hoseok remarked.

Kihyun looked up, surprised and confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Changkyun,” Hoseok clarified. “He’s a good kid.”

Kihyun nodded, looking down at his hands, unsure of what to say in response to the words. He knew that about his best friend, but for some reason, it was hard to formulate a civil response to Hoseok. There was something strange about it all—right now, he was sitting down and having a normal conversation with someone he swore he’d hate (someone he decided to hate without getting to know).

“He talked to me a lot, you know,” Hoseok said, suddenly. “He kind of made me want to learn more about you and why you were so hostile to me. I never really found out, but I have a few guesses.”

Looking guilty, the younger model bit down on his lower lip. And his mind gnawed at him for being so cruel to someone who seemed to be this fragile—someone who looked almost like he could have been exactly like Kihyun would have been, if he didn’t build up that front to try and attack people before they could strike him.

“Why did you take me to the hospital, Kihyun?” Hoseok asked, suddenly. Kihyun glanced up at him.

“Isn’t that why any normal person would do?” he asked, quietly. Hoseok shrugged, looking away from Kihyun and staring at the blank wall in front of him with a purse of his lips, as if he were thinking about his words before he decided that he’d continue his point—he was bedridden and there wasn’t anything better to do.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to do it for me,” he said. “I mean, it’s definitely something I’d do for you, but I was convinced that you wouldn’t do anything for me, and you’d rather have me dead.”

“I don’t hate you that much,” Kihyun mumbled, softly, the guilt overwhelming him. “… I don’t know why you care so much about me, though. Did Changkyun ask you to take care of me or something?”

Hoseok chuckled, shaking his head. “You think that he’s the only one who would want to take care of you, am I right? He did tell me at some time that you weren’t the kind of person that you pretended to be—he tried to tell me that his best friend wasn’t the kind of person who would hurt someone with intention to hurt. And from what I got out of that, it made me think that he was trying to tell me that you didn’t know how to defend yourself in an industry like this. But, no one really does when they first join the industry. It’s not something you’re born with—it’s something you learn when you get knocked down over and over. And unless someone tells you; unless someone guides you, you’ll never learn.

“But, no, he didn’t tell me to take care of you. Changkyun didn’t tell me to look after you. No, I’m kind of just doing this on my own. I made my decision from the moment I met you, the moment that you looked at me with disdain in your eyes and told me that you weren’t looking forward to working with me, and I think that only grew when I overheard you speaking to Changkyun; no matter how much I don’t know him—no matter how much caring for someone who could potentially be your downfall could be. Hyungwon told me that I was an idiot, and maybe I am: I blindly trusted you, even though I knew I shouldn’t—you haven’t given me a single reason to trust you, but I do. Maybe that’s because I’m an idiot, but you have a look in your eyes that reminds me of a lost child, and it makes me want to take care of you, to some extent. I mean, it looks more like you’re taking care of me right now, but I don’t know why. Aren’t I just a stepping stone to your fame? That’s what everyone else uses me as, anyway.”

Kihyun opened his mouth to argue otherwise, but none of his words seemed to string together properly to make up a good enough argument. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he found himself unable to speak up—everything up until now had all been excuses, anyway. It was as if his mind was telling him that his words wouldn’t mean anything, right now—because sorry didn’t fix everything he’d done wrong.

“The industry doesn’t treat us as humans—that’s what Hyungwon told me when he dragged me away from porn. They don’t care if you have feelings or not, so we kind of rely on one another to realize that we’re all sort of the same. But, you get used to it, you know?” Hoseok continued. “Porn doesn’t treat you like you’re human either, so maybe I got used to it all a lot earlier than I should have. But, when I look at you, Kihyun, I think: this boy is mean, but I think I see a lot more than just the surface—when I look at you, I see a story that I don’t know; a book I haven’t read.”

Fidgeting with his hands and unsure of what to do, Kihyun pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, averting his eyes and feeling as if he was shrinking in on himself. Suddenly, the world around him felt so small—felt like he couldn’t stretch a hand out without feeling trapped, because no matter where he moved or what he tried to strike, he’d be standing in the same spot. The young model took a deep breath, voice shaking when he made to speak up.

Seeing Hoseok in such a state made him feel so guilty—it was like a flash of reality to him: something like a slap in the face that asked him how he could have treated another human the way he did. Because surely, no one deserved that kind of treatment—surely, Hoseok didn’t deserve something like that. If he knew other side of blackmail, then maybe everything might have been a little bit different—had he walked into the industry knowing everything that Hoseok told him he should know, then maybe, maybe, they could have gotten along a lot better.

(Without all that hostility and dirty play—perhaps, they could have been allies against the world.)

And the swirl of emotions burst when he raised his eyes and they met with the blond’s.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, finally. Hoseok looked up, surprised. “I’m sorry, really.”

“You’re sorry?” Hoseok repeated, brows furrowing as he looked at him.

In his shame, Kihyun bit down on his lower lip, letting himself surface.

“This is so late, and I probably don’t deserve to be talking to you right now, because if I were really to be myself, then the shame I have wouldn’t let me face you right now. You said you didn’t really know me, said you were trying to figure out my story; well, I don’t have any excuses for me. I’m just scared. I’m just scared that I’m not good enough and that I gave up a stable career to throw myself into hopes and dreams that might never come true, because there are people like you in the world—people who are better than me.

“I’m so sorry that I took so long and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but I want you know that I’m sorry and that I want to try again with you. I want to be a better person.” Kihyun took a breath, and he could hear Hoseok shifting in his bed and looking at him. Feeling so small in the spacious room, Kihyun kept his eyes away from him, not wanting to look at the older man—not daring to look at the older model.

“Truthfully… I was so blinded by my greed that I don’t think I ever really saw clearly that you were just another person. And it took you getting hurt for me to realize it and I hate myself for it. I really do, and I don’t think I could ever say it enough, because what do words even mean? You don’t deserve something like this, Hoseok.”

And at some point, he completely lost track of the words leaving his mouth. Everything just felt like pouring out everything he kept buried inside him for the long years since he walked right into an industry that was never kind to begin with; everything he kept hidden during the long months since he met someone who _wanted_ to be kind—someone who wanted to _understand_ him.

“I’ll keep your secret for you,” he said, his words falling from his lips as a waterfall of panic. “It was supposed to be a buried secret, and we can keep it buried. I might know, but I won’t say a word, I promise. I just… I just want to have another chance at showing you _me_. Yoo Kihyun as the person who Changkyun believes in, Yoo Kihyun as the person who wouldn’t blackmail someone in fear.”

There was a silence in the room; the tense atmosphere having Kihyun on the edge of his chair and not knowing what to expect next. A quiet chuckle left Hoseok’s lips and Kihyun immediately looked back up, his eyes widened in expectation—but he hadn’t the slightest idea of what he was expecting.

Hoseok’s lips tugged into an amused smirk, “Are you going to threaten me to give you another chance with that?”

The younger model’s face dropped, his world seemingly crashing down around him and he swallowed, hard. _“Hoseok…”_

“I’m kidding,” Hoseok told him, and it revived a sliver of hope in the younger man (it felt like a burst of energy somewhere in the pit of his stomach that tried to assure him that everything would be okay, someday). “I’m just joking. Once, Changkyun told me that he thought you were beautiful, and I thought he was in love with you—but, he went on to say that you were afraid to show the part of yourself that was the most beautiful, here: your soft heart.

“I really didn’t understand how he could say someone who blackmailed me to hold me down could be someone with a soft heart, but I took a step back, after he told me that. I took a step back and let you do whatever you pleased, while I sat and studied you for months. _Why is he like this? Why does he do this? What benefit does it have to him?_ ” Hoseok took a breath, lowering his eyes to look at his hands and then he raised his eyes again to look at the wall across from him instead of to Kihyun. The younger model swallowed. “It was like Changkyun planted a seed into me, and it kept me obsessed with trying to work you out, but you’re more complex than what meets the eye—we all are. But, studying you: it was all to the point that I didn’t stop thinking about you, even in my dreams, and maybe between working and just… thinking about you… I found myself so exhausted that I couldn’t function properly anymore. Maybe that’s why we’re here now, or maybe it’s because this is how we were supposed to work out. I don’t know what you think, but I think this is where we’re supposed to be, right now.”

“I trust you. No matter how much I think I shouldn’t, I think I do. I believe you and I believe in you, Kihyun. I just need you to show me that I’m not being foolish like Hyungwon thinks I am.”

Hoseok turned his head to look at him, a small smile on his lips, “You’ll do that, won’t you?”

Perhaps, when Minhyuk said that Hoseok was kind, he meant that he was some kind of foolish kind—a blind optimist. But, if it meant that the person he hurt the most was willing to accept him as he turned around and tried to mend what he’d ruined, then he’d take it.

He nodded—and the whisper of gratitude was silent, yet it resonated in the room like a booming echo.

And if that was an offer for a truce, he’d work for the forgiveness for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for hanging with me throughout the entirety of these few months, and especially to those of you on twitter who encouraged me to keep writing, even though i regretted ever starting a chaptered work: you're all the best and i love you all to death!!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try my best to get these chapters up, soon! ;w;


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